


The Cold Hard Truth

by Elenhin



Category: The Unusuals
Genre: Mentionings of STD, Mentionings of William Brandt as brother of Jason Walsh, Mentionings of other Jeremy Renner movies, Set in the 'Sextuplet' universe where Jason Walsh has brothers.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenhin/pseuds/Elenhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cold hard truth is that sometimes being a cop means you risk everything. Everything you have, and everything you might have. Because sometimes life is hard and does not care, and sometimes the best people have the shittiest luck. </p>
<p>Jason Walsh is a good cop and a good person, but an incident during an arrest could see his whole life ruined. </p>
<p>This is part of the idea where several characters of Jeremy Renner are brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Cold Hard Truth

Chapter 1

The cold hard truth is that the job they do is dangerous. It’s important, but it’s dangerous. Most days are okay, are fine. They are reasonable safe and there is no reason to expect that they will get their badge hung on the wall. 

Other days the truth is something they can’t run from. There are days when you have to face it. Days when there is a new badge hung on the wall. When Kowalski was shot, when a fellow officer died. He might not have been a good one, but he was a cop, and he was shot. You could not deny it then, the risks you took just being a cop. 

Casey knew about it long before she was assigned to the Second. Walsh might call her a rookie, and she was, but she had still been with Vice. She had been there long enough to know you took risks. She just did not know how some of the other stuff worked. That was what Walsh taught her, how to be a detective and how to be a good cop. Not arresting people, not how to handle a perp, but how being a cop really worked. Trading favors for favors, how to earn the respect of your fellow officers and how to take down a bully a well deserved peg or two. He taught her about pranks, who to prank, why to prank and how to get away with it. He taught er to keep a cool head when someone else had pulled one, and also how to keep calm when everything was going to shit around you. 

At first she would have sworn nothing could phase him, he just stood there with that calm and slightly forlorn look on his face and waited. He waited for you to get done with your rant. He waited for you to ask the silly question, and he was just so damn calm you wanted to hit him. 

He had a lost and kicked puppy look that he could pull off so well, and that innocent clumsy one that made him look like a little boy. As a partner and mentor he was great, like a big brother. He would guide you and protect you while not shielding you from every little bump and bruise. He knew all the tricks and all the strange ways everything worked in, and he did not mind telling you. He’d tell you, but he would not do it for you. He treated you as a fellow officer and a rookie, but never like a little girl. 

You had to pull your own weight, but he’d help you to shoulder the load. 

As a partner, and as a friend she cared more about him than anyone else she’d known since she became a cop. He couldn’t care less about the fact that she was rich. It did not matter, he’d get her a coffee when he got one for himself, and he wouldn’t argue if she stopped at a vendor to buy two hot dogs. 

He did not look at your boobs when he was talking to you, but he appreciated what he saw if she was less dressed than some would consider proper. He wasn’t shy about coming to the door half naked. He did not put himself on display, he just wasn’t shy about it if she came when he was not fully dressed. Just like if she had been one of the ‘guy’ guys. 

All of it was little things she appreciated about him, and all of it was stuff that made the cold hard truth so much colder and so much harder. 

Sometimes things just went to shit and there was nothing you could do about it. 

When she was assigned to the Second Precinct she had quickly learned that Walsh was both widely liked and respected. She also learned that he had the best puppy look she had ever seen. Not just a sad puppy, a sad, lost, lonely, kicked and beaten puppy. He did not even appear to know he was doing it, but with Walsh it was hard to tell. From what she heard about Kowalski she did not see how they could ever have worked together. Walsh was a hundred percent good guy, Kowalski was a crooked cop. Whoever had paired them up would have had to have been insane. It was crazy, though perhaps some would do it hoping Walsh would rub off on him and set him straight. He had after all known all about him, known exactly what he would find in his locker and known what to do with it. He had done it so that his widow would not have to deal with it. Then there was the way he had been with the widow, compassionate, understanding and supportive. 

He had made her his most important task right then, and she too had known about the girls, and about some of the stuff. She had loved him regardless, and perhaps that was true for Walsh too. Of course he had not loved his partner, not like his wife did. Perhaps though there had been understanding and compassion for a man who had apparently had a rotten childhood. After all Walsh seemed to be of the forgive and forget kind, he forgave flaws and mistakes that Casey felt sure would have eaten at her. 

In that he was a lot like Cole, turn the other cheek. If someone wronged Walsh he seemed willing to look at why they did it. He showed compassion for criminals that she had not seen others do, yet when he did it she saw that he was right. If he had arrested them before he knew them, not just knew their name and their face. He knew them, he knew why they did it and if they were rotten through and through or if they were just down on their luck and stupid. 

One of them, youth who was barely getting by with no education to speak off and a penchant for shoplifting. She’d seen his face on a paper in the office, once more, a shoplifting charge. It had been lying on Walsh’s desk with a pile of others but she remembered it when she saw him at the diner. She’d only stopped by for a cup of coffee on her way home. Not because the coffee was so good, but because her mother had said she wanted to speak with her when she got home. So she tried to delay getting home like the mature woman she was. 

There the kid was, sitting at the counter with a full plate in front of him. She knew he didn’t have any money, Walsh knew it to, standing behind the counter and filling a couple of tin foil takeaway containers with pork chops, mashed potato and what was probably vegetables. 

The kid looked apprehensive and worried when she entered, a fight or flee look flashing in his eyes. He had tried both at the scene, taking a swing at Walsh and trying to run. He caught up with him after only half a block and hauled him in, and he refused to write a resisting arrest charge. Now he was here feeding the kid. 

Pouring Casey coffee he did not say anything as the kid finished eating, then put a plastic bag with the containers on the counter. Telling him to come back if he was broke instead of trying to steal. Saying he’d ask around if anyone needed someone to put in an odd hour or two for a few bucks. She saw him give the kid a twenty before he ducked out the door with a blush on his face. 

That was Walsh, if they weren’t bad he didn’t bust them for mistakes. He would go out of his way to help them, but he was as rough as he had to be with the truly bad ones. 

Which was why he tackled a drug dealer. Because the guy ran away from them, and having not only set up shop close to a school but also catered to the kids there Walsh felt no sympathy for him at all. He had no qualms about making a hard arrest if it had to be done, and so far it seemed to have worked for him. 

“I ain’t done nothing you fucking pig!” the guy hollered as Walsh wrestled his arms behind his back. 

“Yeah, nothing,” he snorted. Picking up a few packages that he had dropped off the ground. “This is nothing, right, and you’re not under arrest?” 

“Fuck you!” he tried to squirm free, but Walsh held him down and had already gotten handcuffs on him. 

“At least he’s polite,” Casey mused. 

“Yeah, very,” Walsh climbed to his feet, pulling the perp up with him, before rubbing a sore spot on his thigh. Taking down a running suspect was not without the risk of bruising yourself. It was, in a way, all part of the job though and nothing to worry about. 

Casey called in for a car to take them back to the station where they booked him, throwing him into the holding cell. Obviously it had been a good morning, already there was a guy in a seagull costume and a pair of fake Siamese twins in there. Their clothes had been sewn together to make them appear as Siamese twins, but they obviously were not Casey mused as she sat down at her desk. 

“Think we can get the name of his supplier?” she asked as Walsh sat at his desk, grabbing his coffee mug and glancing into it. sometimes she wondered how much coffee he really drank, and if it really was healthy. 

“We should,” he decided as he stood to get coffee. “I’ve arrested him before, he’s a jerk and an idiot. After about four hours he usually starts screaming for his mommy, and gives you anything you want. All we have to do is sit tight until then and we’ll get it.” 

“Has he got a mommy?” she wanted to know. 

Walsh smiled again, “yeah, and in about four and a half hour she’ll come in here screaming about how we are holding her sweet innocent angel. And how he would never harm a fly. Sadly, she’ll also have some lawyer that gets him off on a bargain which is why we keep busting him. On the other hand, he’s quite helpful in getting some of the bigger fish out of the game.” 

“I see,” while she didn’t like anyone getting off, a small dealer who kept helping them busting bigger suppliers was not all bad. Walsh went to the break room and returned with the whole coffee pot, rubbing the spot on his thigh. 

“You okay there?” it was the first time he looked as if something actually bothered him. 

“Think I bruised something taking him down,” he shrugged. It felt something like if he had a thorn stuck in his thigh. “That what he had in his pockets?” He nodded to the clear zip lock bag with several objects in it that was lying on her desk. 

“Yeah, he’s obviously using himself,” she told him, nodding the hypodermic needle. 

Walsh nodded, then frowned as he looked closer at the needle. “Where did he have it?” 

“Right front pocket, uncapped, which I assume is why the needle has snapped off. Can you still use them then?” she asked. She had no idea, they never covered that in basic training. 

Walsh didn’t answer her, rubbing the sore spot on his thigh again and feeling the pin prick of a thorn like object in his flesh as he did so. “Shit!” It could be completely unrelated. There might have been some glass on the sidewalk, or a small thorn of something stuck in his pants. It was however stretching coincidence too far. Not sparing Casey a single look he stalked out of the bullpen and off to the changing room. Showers and lockers, because sometimes being a cop was literally a dirty job. The room was empty though it was something he barely registered as he walked over to the first bench and unbuckled his belt, dropping his pants down to knee high. There on his thigh was a spot of blood. Just a tiny smear that could have come from anything, including scratching an itch. Grabbing the pants just so he wouldn’t trip on them he walked over to the sink and wet a paper towel, rubbing at the blood. It came off easily, showing a slim darker shape under the skin. 

“Are you okay?” when she was first assigned to the Second Precinct she would have been a lot more self conscious about entering the changing room after a man. A partner came before your prudishness though. A partner came before anything else which meant she would follow Walsh into the men’s showers if she had to. The fact that he now had his pants around his ankles was slightly disconcerting but the look on his face worried her more. 

“Shit!” it was unusual to see him display such emotion too, slamming his hand against the mirror. She had seen him do similar things, when something went really wrong. When a perp got away from them. She just could not see why he would do that because of something that he had under his pants. 

“What’s wrong?” worried for him but not off him she stepped closer. 

“The needle,” dropping his head he pinched the bridge of his nose. “The fucking needle!” 

“What about it?” she frowned, then realization struck her. “Walsh? Don’t tell me?” she broke off and looked at what was in front of her. Not just her partner in a pair of well fitting boxer briefs, but the tiniest hint of blood forming a pinprick bead on his thigh. She too could see the dark shape there. “Oh fuck!” 

“He had it in his pocket, and it broke off when I took him down,” Walsh stated matter of factly. Then with another burst of emotion he slammed the palm of his hand against the mirror again with a curse. The whole thing rattled, but it held which she thought was good as the last thing he needed was cutting his hand to ribbons as well. 

“I’ll tell Sarge we’re going to the hospital,” it seemed like such a lame thing to say, but it was the only thing she could offer. Walsh paled even more at the mentioning of the hospital, but they had no choice. The broken needle had to be taken out, and then there was the other reason. Why they both felt like they had been sucker punched and she felt like her stomach was full of ice. Why she was feeling nauseous, even. If the guy wasn’t clean, if he was positive…? That was one of their biggest fears, a dirty needle and then that was it. A small prick was all it took sometimes for a good cop to suddenly have both his career and his life ruined. 

Aids, HIV, sometimes one needle prick was all it took. 

TBC

Please comment, the Cricket is hungry


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Casey speaks briefly to Sergeant Brown, explaining what has happened. The man grits his teeth and nods grimly. It’s something they all know can happen, and yet something they do not want to acknowledge. As soon as it has happened you’re dreading the worst. When she comes back out into the corridor Walsh is there, leaning against the wall and looking like he does not even have the energy to walk out the door. 

It’s not just the needle and the risk she knows, it’s about having to go to the hospital. Walsh is mortally scared of hospitals she has come to see. When it’s about a suspect or a victim it’s bad enough. She’s been waiting patiently outside the door as he works up the courage to go inside. She’s waited outside afterwards while he stands slumped, leaning against something and sweating as he tries to get himself under control. 

When it was a young kid who was the victim he did not even get outside before he threw up. A nurse who passed the bathroom almost wanted to admit him when she realized how pale he was and how he was covered in sweat. Casey was just barely able to talk them out of it confirming that yes, he looked like shit, but it was under control. She would guess he was not the only one who reacted negatively to it, becuase they let him be and allowed her to take him outside. 

No, he did not react well to it, and she knew that from experience and was not looking forward to trying to keep him calm. In fact, if Beaumont had been there she would have been tempted to hand him over to her. Not because she was willing to run out on her partner, but because she knew Beaumont knew how to handle him better. They were after all together, and they worked well together. Even if Walsh on occasion tried to ruin it by being a typical man. They were good for each other though, and she seemed to really understand him. She would have been able to handle it a lot better, she was sure. Which would have been better for Walsh as well, but as it was she had no choice so she tucked her hand under his arm to drag him along. 

“Come on,” she urged. “I’ll stay with you. It’ll be quick I’m sure.” 

Two hours later she was cursing herself, and dug out her wallet to hand over five dollars to him. Instead of taking them he just blinked at her, confused. 

“Jinxing it, remember, never say it’s going to be quick,” she grinned. 

Now he braved a shaky smile as he took the bill and stuffed it into his pocket. One thing she had learned from him was distraction. He’d told her she owed him five dollars for jinxing an op, and it had gone to shit. Now, she had apparently done so again, by saying it would be quick. It was not, they had been there for two hours and they were still waiting. Paying him the money was a distraction from the matter at hand. How pale he was and how he was just about covered in cold sweat from being stuck inside the hospital. For a brief moment she had been worried he’d panic, but he had managed to keep mostly calm. As calm as one could hope for anyway. 

When a nurse finally came to lead the way to a doctor who could see him she decided it was probably best if she went along. Anything unexpected he might just pass out from sheer terror. Walsh is shaky, looking unsteady on his legs and barely talking. He nods mutely in reply to a question that really wasn’t a yes or no question. Which is where Casey steps in for real, explaining the entire situation, and adds that her partner is mortally scared of hospitals. While they raise an eyebrow at that, they at least allow her to answer for him as much as possible. 

It only takes them a few minutes to cut out the remains of the needle and tape a piece of gauze over the wound. Then there is the blood samples and tests. Lab work to find out if he was infected or not. That is the worst part, finding out how long it will take to find out if it is okay or not. There is a three month mark, and a six month mark. If he passes the three month he probably will not have to worry. Probably, there is still the odd chance which is why they have the six month mark as well. Until then, he won’t know for sure. He might be infected, and he might not. All might be good, or all might be hell. There is simply no way of knowing and there are so many things they must think off. 

If he has been infected, then he could infect someone. If he gets hurt and bleeds she must think about protecting herself as well as helping him. If she is hurt and bleeding he must think about the risk of infecting her while he’s helping her. 

Then there is Beaumont as well, they have to tell her unless Sergeant Brown has already done so. There is the worry how it will affect their relationship, and the worry of getting Walsh out of the hospital before he faints. 

With everything they tell him he goes more pale and she figures the best she can do is to just get him out of there. Right now he’s her first priority, and it’s quite obvious that he’s had all he can take at the moment. Getting him back to the diner, getting Beaumont to come there seems like a good plan. 

Jason Walsh is one of the strongest men she knows, but everyone has their breaking points. After what happened, and then nearly four hours in a hospital he has clearly reached his limit. He does not object at all when she starts steering him out of the building and heads back to their car. He slumps down in his seat and drops his head back, eyes closed. One hand absently rubbing the spot on his thigh again. Then as he realizes what he’s doing there’s a sharp breath and he pulls his hand back. as if he was worried about pricking himself on the needle that had been there. 

She swallows, becuase there is literally nothing she can do to fix this. All he can do is to take him back to the diner, because right now he does not need to go back to the shop. She can call Beaumont because he can do with someone who really understands him. 

She’s always said she do not want to use her money to get anywhere, and this is when it’s brought home to her how completely useless money is. She’s got more than she could spend, and yet her partner is sitting broken in the seat beside her and there is nothing she can do. There is literally nothing to do, nothing that money can fix. If money can’t fix your partner and your friend, then isn’t she right saying it’s kind of worthless? 

Parking the car in the alley behind the diner where she always parks she waits a moment. Giving him the time to realize where they are before she says anything about it. Seemingly snapping out of it he opens the door and steps out, shuffling down the alley to the front of the diner. Fumbling in his pocket for the key he blinks for a moment before opening the door. It’s not locked, because Beaumont is already in there waiting for them. Casey realizes that Sergeant Brown must have already notified her, something she’s grateful for. At least it means she doesn’t have to break the news to her. 

“Hey there,” her voice unusually soft Beaumont reaches up to sling an arm around his shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, yeah? I know what happened, but it’s gonna be okay.” 

“Can’t know that,” he mumbles. “Not before six months. You know that jerk Beaumont, you know what he is. And you know as well as I know that what he has is no secret. And I had the fucking needle in my leg. That’s about as bad as it gets.” 

“Yeah, but it’ll be okay,” she tells him again. “And I mean that Walsh, I’m not just saying it, I mean it.” 

“Okay, yeah,” nodding slowly he at least looks up at them. It’s not a lot, but it’s a start and a start is what they need. 

TBC

Please comment, the Cricket is hungry....


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Casey had been worried she would be intruding, but Beaumont had asked her to stay at the diner with them. Claiming that company then was a good thing, so she stayed and put some coffee on, Beaumont starting to make some french toast from the stuff she found in the fridge. With the fridge in the dinner you were never sure what you would find. Though he was only open when he felt like it he was usually pretty well stocked on the basic. Hamburger patties and a large supply of bacon in the freezer. Eggs, bread and milk in the fridge. A selection of meat and canned goods while fresh vegetables and fruit being more perishable was never a safe bet. Still, after Beaumont started making the french toast he seemed to pull himself together and brought out some bacon from the fridge. 

French toast with bacon and coffee might be more of breakfast food than a dinner, but Casey thought it was fine. There was for once no odd additions and she almost missed that. No side of some weird candy dish that should never have been permitted to exist. Walsh would normally have put pickles on the french toast, or peanut butter on the bacon. She wouldn’t put it past him to wrap the pickles in bacon and deep fry them. 

How the diner wasn’t blacklisted in the entire state of New York she would never know. Apparently word of mouth had not yet gotten around because every now and again he would have customers who came in and then actually stayed to eat the food. She had even seen some of them have his hot sauce pancakes with gummy bears. 

She poured the coffee as Beaumont served up the food on plates and they sat at the counter to eat. Casey taking the seat on the opposite side of Walsh. Maybe that would not make a difference as such, but having him between them, protected, made her feel better. It seemed weird that Walsh might need her to protect him. Not just weird really but completely wrong and impossible. Not only was he more experienced, but he was also so confident in himself and what he did. She had been fine in Vice, it had worked well and she had gotten along well with the others. The guys would crack jokes and comments, of course they would, she posed as a hooker as often as not. What guy wouldn’t take the chance to make a crack about that? They had her back though. She knew she could trust them if a John would get rough with her. She never had to worry about being on her own with a potentially violent suspect. 

She got along well with them, but it was still not like it was with Walsh. She would never have found herself in a worn diner with them, eating horrible food just because she liked it. She did not like the food, but she liked being there with Walsh. He had taught her so much, and gave her so much even when he was close mouthed about his past. He guided her, protected her, and sent her into the worst of it. All based on what was needed. He was a good guy and a good cop, and she enjoyed being with him. It wasn’t even awkward with Beaumont as apparently neither of them saw any reason to be jealous. Either she trusted Walsh, or her, she did not know but Beaumont did not seem to mind at all that they were friends. 

Not even when it had been one of those shitty cases that nearly sent her to tears from the sheer injustice of it all and Walsh actually gave her a hug. It had made her feel better, and Beaumont had watched, then patted her shoulder. Giving her an encouraging smile and an assurance it might look like shit but it would be okay. 

The two of them had the kind of relationship she wished she could have with Davis. A lot of hot sex, and yet a trust in each other that it seemed nothing could break. 

She left after they had eaten though, allowing Beaumont to take care of Walsh. He looked exhausted, completely wrung out and she had no doubt it came from the hospital. Having to be there for so long, it was bound to wear him out. Sleep was probably what he needed most, and that was for Beaumont to take care of. So trying to prove that she had learned what he tried to teach her she squeezed his arm with an encouraging smile, and told him she’d leave them to their own device. 

The warm smile he gave her proved that she’d done the right thing. 

Going home she fell asleep pretty much instantly herself. She might not have been the one, but it had still drained her. 

She didn’t exactly get the best night of sleep either and was rather tired when she headed for work. Not really surprised to see Walsh there when she arrived either. He looked just as tired as she felt, but he still looked a bit better. Dark circles under his eyes were clear evidence that he had not slept a lot. The coffee pot sitting on the file cabinet by his desk however was unrelated as it was where it tended to wind up. Not satisfied with one mug he tended to bring the pot with him to his desk. Everyone else knew that was where it resided so that was where they went to get their own fix. Until it was empty and they had to go out into the break room for the second pot. 

No, the coffee pot right by his desk was normal, the tired weary look on his face was not. 

“You okay?” it seemed like a stupid question in a way, but she wasn’t asking that way. She wanted to know if he was handling it, if he needed her for anything. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded. Which meant he was as okay as he could be, not okay, okay. Just having a hold on things for the moment. There was nothing else right then, it was the best she could hope for. Leaning forward to grab the coffee mug from her own desk she put a hand on his shoulder as if to steady herself. Her hand squeezing the base of his neck. He would not want any open displays in the office, but she had learned from the best how to be discrete. He knew what she was doing, she knew, but no one else would have the slightest idea. 

“I got the name of the dealer, so we’ll be going after him today,” Walsh told her as she filled her mug from the pot. “I got a name and address, and, unless the creep we got yesterday is lying he’s just stocked up so we should be able to make a good catch if we grab him.” 

She nodded, it sounded like an excellent idea to her. 

Obviously word had already gotten around about Walsh though, before they left several of the others entered, most of them taking the way past his desk, giving a sympathetic and supportive comment. Delahoy slapped his shoulder while Leo did not. She was not surprised given his fear of dying. 

As they walked down the stairs and through the corridors it seemed everyone turned to look. Some spoke up and he nodded to them. Others were quiet, some only said something when they thought they were out of earshot. Those made her angry as it felt a lot like silent judgment to her. Going by how Walsh looked even more weary by the time they had made it outside she figured it felt that way to him to. 

“It’ll pass,” she murmured, not sure if that made it better or worse. “I bet they’re just wondering what really happened.” 

“They already know what happened,” he shook his head. “By now every cop in the six closest precincts know. By lunch, it’ll be three times as many. With some of them it’s pity, others are just happy to know how stupid I am and how much better than me that makes them.” 

“How could it make them better than you?” She honestly did not understand that. It was a real danger that they never fully got away from. It was why they asked about anything sharp in their pockets when they searched them. It was one of the biggest dangers of their job. 

“I’m the one got a needle in me, they did not, that means they are better than me,” he shrugged. It’s down to jealousy and shit Casey, hell, I don’t know all the time. It is what it is though, and I’ve pissed off some other cops so you can bet they are patting themselves on the back now, saying I got what I had coming.” 

“Does it help if I say they are assholes?” she wanted to know and to her surprise he gave a light chuckle. 

“You know what, I think it does. Now come on, let’s see if we can bust the guy and then I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

They find the guy right where they are told he will be, and he does not get away from them even though he tries. He runs, and as Walsh runs after him Casey has a flashback to their previous chase. 

It does not play out the same way though, the guy is too busy looking behind him at Walsh to look where he’s going and knocks himself down against a light post. He says he has nothing in his pockets, and Walsh believes him. Patting him down he’s not worried either, it’s not like it can get any worse. All they find however is a large stash of various drugs. More than enough to get him a stiff sentence. 

Dragging him back to the precinct they stash him in the holding cell before going down to the Apollo for lunch. She figures Walsh is looking a little better already, more relaxed. Possibly because they have accomplished something. Perhaps not much, but it’s something and it’s better than nothing and they take their time over lunch. While they sit enjoying their food, the guy sits in the holding cell stewing. The softer he goes the easier it will be for them to get something good out of him. Hopefully he’ll be smart and give them more names, but neither one of them are about to hold their breath. 

A lot of them won’t give anything, knowing it’s better to do the time without ratting. If you’re in debt to the ones above you though, they might talk. For some reason drug organizations tend not to be too patient about getting their money. They are not very understanding about the difficulties when you get arrested and have your supply taken from you. If you’re deep enough in debt the smart thing to do is tell the police everything they want to know, and hope the guy you owe gets more time than you do yourself. 

This guy is not smart, he keeps his mouth shut until both of them feel like they are just standing banging their head against the wall. He refuses to admit possession regardless of the fact that his bag was crammed full of the stuff. He refuses to admit to knowing anything about anything at all and refuses to say anything else until he gets a lawyer. 

That’s when they find out the case is in trouble. There are lawyers who care nothing about what the criminals has done and only about how much money they can make from it. Such lawyers put their name out to the worst kind of scum as the guilty party generally have more money than the innocent. The guy is also disturbingly good at what he does. When the name is mentioned in the bullpen there is a series of groans. 

“Are we giving up?” Casey frowns confused. Walsh has never shown any desire to give up before. 

“No, we are not giving up, but be prepared for disappointment,” Walsh decided. “We are gonna have to be damn good to even stand a chance here. I’ve never known this guy to lose a case in court, he always comes up with some bullshit.”

“Great,” like they needed the aggravation. He certainly did not need it, and she could not say she was willing to tolerate it either. She did not know what she could do, but she was determined to try and do something. The risks they took, the work they did, it shouldn’t be for nothing. It should not have to be for nothing…

TBC......

Please comment, the Cricket is hungry...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Three days after the incident she did not think Walsh looked like he had improved any. In fact he looked slightly unwell. Pale and tired, and it was only feeding the rumors. The street cops who glanced after him in the corridor. Beaumont was worried, that much was obvious. She had asked Casey to keep an eye on him. Because he was pulling away from her. Too scared of any potential risk that might or might not be true. He would barely even hold her. He did not want her to touch him as if merely brushing against him would be enough to infect her. 

Beaumont was getting more and more frustrated with him and she could understand it. She just did not know what to do about it. He was doing his job, so there was no reason to intervene on that ground. Sergeant Brown had expressed his concern but there really was nothing he could do. There was no reason to keep him away from work, and since he performed as well as could be expected the man had to accept the situation as it was. All they could do was to hope that once he had had a few days to come to terms with it, things would improve. 

Casey just wasn’t sure that it would. They were beating their heads against the wall on the perp. His lawyer had proved to be as good as Walsh said he was, and the man was out on bail. To make matters worse he was he seemed to be threatening them with suing them for his own amusement. He had no grounds for that charge, so it would never stick, but it was enough to make the higher ups sweat to have it hanging in the air. 

Beaumont and Casey both figured that maybe all he needed was some space. It seemed reasonable. Walsh had never been the clingy type of guy, but it did not really seem to help. Another three days later and nothing had changed. The way he sat mostly quiet at his desk, engrossed in his work was also starting to make the others uncomfortable. Walsh was one of their most well respected men. He was usually the calm and steady force behind the precinct that made others listen to them. He was the one who’d prank Eddie Alvarez without mercy, and yet tried to guide him to be a better man. He was always willing to help anyone who’d accept it, and he was relentless in his pursuit of the bad guys. The way he acted now was just so wrong. It wasn’t like him at all, and everyone noticed it. 

At the end of the day he simply went home to the diner, sinking down in a chair. Knowing he should pull himself together but not able to find the energy to do so. He might have opened the diner, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to do so. He was not even sure if there was anything to eat in the fridge. Some of the perishables might have spoiled. If he remembered correctly the tomatoes had been slightly over ripe. By now they were probably going on spoiled. He should probably throw them out. He should at least do something. 

It was not really his thing to sit in self pity, it had never been and he would kick himself if he even suspected he was doing it. It wasn’t self pity, it was just the sheer magnitude of it he told himself stubbornly. It wasn’t self pity as such, it was just so hard to accept it when everyone looked at him sideways for it. They did, it was not just his imagination. He heard the whispers when he passed them. The next day he would have to go back to have the stitches removed, which meant another few hours in the hospital. That in itself was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. It was one thing to go in there for a case, it was hard enough but he could do it. He could force himself to remain more or less calm as he did so. It was hard, and it made him feel sick to his stomach but he could do it. 

Having to go there for any kind of personal reason however was a lot harder. That was nearly impossible. 

Casey would probably go with him if he asked her, he was sure she would. He just couldn’t bring himself to ask her though. She would not even hesitate before she agreed, but at the same time it was hard to ask. She knew how much he hated hospitals, and she did not think less of him for it. Just like he did not think less of her for hating boats. She got seasick, of course she hated them. He understood it, and sympathized, but sometimes in the name of their job he had to make her do it. Just like he had to make himself grit his teeth and step through the doors of the hospital. 

All he had to do was to ask her, but he couldn’t do that. It would almost be easier to ask his brothers, or even his cousin. His cousin who looked suspiciously a lot like them. If any of them had been there he probably would have, but none of them were and so far none of them knew anyway. He had not told them. Calling them up to tell them that he might possibly get an STD would not serve any useful purpose. Yeah, if he was infected they would all be pissed when they found out. Brian would throw a fit, James would want to hit him. Will would be disappointed that he had not told him, and feel like he had failed him. Especially since Jason had not told him, which Will would most likely interpret to mean he had not been able to do since Will was too busy to look after his brother. He was a bit of a stupid ass that way. Aaron would be the one most likely to accept it as shitty luck, and try to figure out the best course of action. 

Aaron had more experience of doing that these days. Clint was harder to predict, but like Aaron he was more than familiar with shitty as hell luck, and he would be as supportive as he possibly could. Clint was good that way, he knew the world was a shitty place and had no illusions of anything else. Most often he seemed to think any day he survived was a good day, and as often as he was in near death situations it made sense. Being an agent in S.H.I.E.L.D was not a safe occupation after all. He made Will’s and Aaron’s careers look positively safe, and they were in IMF, and an experimental CIA program separately. 

Will who was the oldest of them also always seemed to think that it was still his responsibility to look after his younger brothers. He still blamed himself for not realizing what Jason was doing back when he was still playing baseball. Throwing those games was the stupidest thing he had ever done in his life, but at the time it had made sense. He had debts, not because of gambling or anything like that. He had debts because he was an orphaned kid on a baseball scholarship that got terminated and left him with a huge tuition debt. Not his fault but his problem to solve. 

They had been insistent, very convincing and finally he agreed. He paid off his debt, figured he was even and that life was good. Then he got called up to the majors and when they wanted him to do it again he refused. He refused when they threatened him, he refused when they arranged for him to get badly beaten. 

Then they went after his girlfriend and killed her. 

There was no way to keep it from his brothers then, he told Will everything. Nothing he could do but offer comfort and support. They all did in their own way, but Will while assuring Jason that it was not really his fault blamed himself. He didn’t lie to him, he agreed that it was a stupid thing to have done. He just told him that even though it had been stupid it was not his fault, as Jason would never have done it if he had had the slightest idea of where it would lead. He was right, but that did not help a lot. He had been depressed, he had been a mess and he had felt like he did not have the right to ever be happy again. 

It had taken years before he finally felt that he could again. The whole time his brothers had supported him, and done what they could to help him. Will just never really stopped blaming himself for not realizing what was going on. He had tried to tell him that there was nothing he could have done, as Jason had naturally kept it to himself. 

Telling Will not to blame himself though was the definition of pointless. You could do it, but it made more sense to just save your breath. 

He understood the risks of being a cop, and his own job was much more dangerous so he could not really say anything about that. 

Will had been captured and tortured more than once, so he really could not complain about any of them having a dangerous job. He generally did not tell Jason until long afterwards though. Especially not after his girlfriend died. Will refused to let Jason go into the hospital to see him. He refused because he knew how hard it was on him. Ever the big brother trying to protect his younger brother. Even if there was mere minutes between them Will would try to protect him, and so did the others. Even if they were technically younger than him they would not let him. They had always done what they could to look after each others. They tried to keep Brian calm when his temper got the better of him, and they tried to keep James from getting blown up by the bombs he disarmd. 

They were brothers, of course they looked out for each others. 

At the moment a part of him actually wanted to call Will since he knew he would help him. He just could not bring himself to do it. 

His appointment was right at the end of the day so he would head straight there after work. Shuffling out of the office and taking a deep breath as he stood beside his car. 

“Hey,” Casey had still been putting some files away when he walked outside, but now she came up to stand beside him. “You ready to go?” 

“Eh, I’m kind of busy,” he mused slowly. 

“I know, we are going to your appointment,” she nodded. 

“We?”

“Yes, we,” she nodded. “And we have to leave if ‘we’ want to be on time, so come on now.” 

“You’re being awfully bossy,” he mused, but he still got into the car. It really was a relief to have her with him. He could not deny that, it was a relief. He might even have a chance to get out of it with his sanity more or less intact. 

“Bossy can be a good thing,” she grinned. “Beaumont is with Cole, and I just don’t want you to have to do this alone because I know how much it bothers you.” 

“I appreciate that, I really do,” he told her softly. 

“Partners are supposed to be there for each others, isn’t that what you say?” she reminded him. 

“They are, but I’m not sure if that includes holding their hand while they get just a couple of stitches removed,” he mused. “And I still don’t see why I can’t just do it myself.”

“Because they want to make sure that everything is okay,” she shrugged. “And I want to know that it’s okay. You really haven’t been acting like yourself, you know.” 

“Yeah I know,” he rubbad a hand over his face. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay, I understand. I just wish I could do something,” she stated. “Look, I know what’s at stake here, I do. And I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been me. I just don’t, so I can’t really say anything about it.” 

“Yes you can,” now he gave her something of a smile. “Becuase you’re not an idiot. So you probably won’t act like one.” 

That made Casey too grin. “I wouldn’t call you an idiot either. I just want to make sure you know you can ask me to help. And I don’t just mean right now. I mean the whole way. If you want to talk about it, or if you don’t want to talk about it. If you want to just be mad about it, or if you want someone to beat the shit out of the perp.”

“You know Casey, for a girl, you’re a great partner and a good guy,” he told her softly. 

When it came to Walsh, she figured that was about the best praise you could get. Sometimes when she did not know something, he’d say it was because she was a girl. He tended to be sometimes slightly fixated on that, girl or guy stuff. She had no idea why. He had once said that his mother used to dress him like a girl until he was six, and she really doubted it was true. It might however have explained some things if it had been true. Certainly a guy who had been made out like a girl would come to be completely opposed to all that stuff. Perhaps it was not as much of a lie as an exaggeration? If his mother had wanted a girl, and treated him something like one it might have done it. 

When they sat down in the waiting room she figured it was the perfect time to ask him a couple of questions as it might help distract him. 

“Do you have any siblings, or are you an only child,” she asked as she gave him a dixie cup of coffee from the vending machine. They had been informed the doctor was running a little late so that they had about thirty to forty minutes to wait. Since that was just so much more time for him to get worked up in she figured that distracting him really was a good idea. 

“What do you think?” taking the cup there was a slight hint of amusement in his eye. 

“I’d say anyone who had you would figure it’s more than enough and cut their loss,” she grinned. “But if your parents are as crazy as you, then I don’t see why couldn’t have siblings.” 

“I have four brothers,” he admitted. There was no reason why she could not know. “One is older than me, the rest younger.” The fact that they were quintuplets was something he didn’t feel the need to admit though. If he kept that piece of information to himself there was always the chance of shocking her with it later. 

“Your parents were very brave then,” she grinned. “Five boys, it must have been horrible for them. My parents only had me.” 

“I don’t think they were really brave,” he shrugged. “Your parents had their hands full with you. My mother didn’t really give a crap about me.” 

“What?” she blinked. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, my older brother, Will, took care of most of us. I guess five of us was too much for mom, so she didn’t really care. Aaron was her favorite, and the only one she cared about, and dad pretty much always just took the easiest way out. Will was the oldest, so it became his responsibility to look out for the rest of us.” 

“And how did he feel about that?” she frowned. A teenager just couldn’t be happy always having to take care of younger siblings. 

“He kinda took it upon himself to do so,” he shrugged, draining the coffee cup and looking at his watch. Another ten minutes to wait. “And now we can’t get him to stop. He still thinks he’s in charge and that he can boss us around. He means well, but sometimes it can get a bit much to always having him interfering.” 

“That has to be very annoying,” she mused. “So, Will, Aaron, and Jason, what did they name the rest of you?” 

“William, Brian and Kenneth,” he mused. “But, since Willie prefers Will, we mostly call him by his last name now, James. And Kenneth got his name changed to Aaron.”

“What was so wrong with Kenneth?” 

“Nothing as such, but he was a little retarded. That was why he was mom’s favorite,” he explained. “She felt bad about it, and spoilt him rotten. He managed to join up in the army even if he shouldn’t have, got some rotten recruitment officer who falsified the records. It’s safe to say it didn’t go very well for him, so afterwards, he got his name changed.” As much as he trusted Casey, he was not about to tell her that his brother was wanted by the CIA. That would not go over well. 

“Oh, I see,” she blushed just a little. 

“Our parents died when we were about fourteen which was when James got adopted. He’s in the army which is kind of why Aaron wanted to join.” 

“Interesting family, what does the others do?” he kept looking at his watch so she wanted to distract him as much as possible. 

“Will kinda works for the government,” That was stretching it a great deal, but he doubted she really knew what IMF was, and to tell her his brother worked for a James Bond kind of agency would not be easy. “James is in the army. He’s deployed in Afghanistan right now, disarming bombs. Brian is in the LAPD SWAT, and Aaron is mostly just drifting around the world.” That was a mild way of putting ‘on the run from the CIA’, but it would have to do. It was the best he could do. 

“You really do have an interesting family,” she grinned at the same time as a nurse told him to follow. He couldn’t help but feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat as he stood to obey. Going into the exam room, having to sit at the table, already he felt nauseated. 

Casey put a hand on his shoulder as he slowly made to follow. Offering silent support to him. 

“You may wait outside,” the nurse stated coldly and she watched Jason go even more pale at the thought of her leaving. 

“Thanks, but I’m staying. I won’t get in the way,” she told her. “I’ll just be over here,” she positioned herself behind the examination table where Jason sat. That way she could offer a supportive touch if she felt it would help. Without risk getting in the way either. 

“I think it would be better if you waited outside,” the nurse gave them a disapproving frown. 

Casey could not really see his face from where she stood, but she felt him stiffen and had no doubt he had just gone a shade whiter at the thought of suddenly being left alone. She could not do that to him. She had gotten his hopes up, to take that away now would only make things worse. 

“I really think it would be better if I stayed,” she told her, confidently. 

“Now really,” the nurse started as the doctor came into the room, and this time Walsh cut her off. Swallowing audibly before he spoke. 

“If you want me to pass out or puke, then fine, make her leave.” 

“As I think we’d rather avoid both, please stay,” the doctor, a middle aged woman gave them both something of a smile. “You appear somewhat pale Mr. Walsh. Is that something concerning the examination or are you feeling unwell?” 

“I, I just really don’t want to be here,” he swallowed again. The way he felt right now, passing out was a real possibility.

“We’ll try to get it over as quickly as possible then,” she mused. Obviously being more compassionate than the nurse. 

She removed the stitches, took his vitals and gave him an ointment to treat the healing wound with to reduce scarring. He got through the examination, hurried out of the hospital and made it almost all the way to the car before he leaned forward and was sick. 

Casey hung back, not wanting to crowd in. It wasn’t like he needed her to hold his hair. 

He straightened, looking embarrassed which she could understand even if she thought there was no need for it. He had been under a lot of stress lately. It really was not all that surprising that it eventually became too much. It was only natural. 

“I’ll take you home,” she told him softly. Hopefully he would be able to relax, and he could probably do with something to drink and eat once he had cleaned off. She had no plans for the day, so keeping him company for a while was no inconvenience. 

Getting into the passenger seat he slumped down, not saying anything as they drove to the diner. She parked where she always did and he fumbled in his pocket for the key as he got out of the car. 

“I’m gonna wash up, you want something to eat?” he asked as he unlocked the door. 

“I don’t think I would mind,” she decided. It was getting late, she hadn’t eaten since lunch. While she thought most of his cooking was horrid she figure he might feel better for it. He seemed to genuinely like cooking for his friends. At least he seemed to like cooking for her. Sometimes she wished she could appreciate it more, if for no other reason than to make him happy. 

He nodded absently and she sat at the counter while he disappeared into the back. She heard the shower come on and was a little surprise, but he was pretty quick. Soon returning with his hair damp. Clad in jeans and t-shirt while barefoot, and looking a little better at that as he started rummaging around in the fridge. There was nothing there really, he really had been horrible at taking care of things. He found some eggs though, and milk. The bread was okay so he started up a batch of French Toast. 

It made him think of Brian, which was both good and bad. Brian used to like French Toast, which meant he often made it when they were together. Brian was however the baby of the family, that made it different. 

“I hope you like this, because I really don’t have anything else,” he admitted as he started on it. 

“It’s fine,” she assured him. Not her favorite, but he was having a hard time and the last thing she wanted to do was to make it worse for him. “And tomorrow we’ll make sure you’re stocked up again, okay?” 

“Yeah sure,” he did not sound very enthusiastic, but she had glimpsed into the fridge. There was barely anything left to eat in there. Obviously he was not quite handling things at the moment, and he was her partner which meant it was her duty to help. Also, he was a great friend and one she would gladly help. The duty thing just meant it would be easier to do it even when he objected. Because it was her duty because she was his partner. He had after all been the one to tell her that and she did not mind using his own words against him. 

When it came to your partner you did whatever it took, so she accepted the plate he put in front of her and started eating. Genuinely surprised that there was no weird additions. That if anything proved how poorly he was doing. 

She watched him clean up after the light meal, re-filling their coffee cups after he had put the plates in the sink. There was no point in washing only two plates. He did however scrub down the griddle. The diner might be worn, as was a lot of similar buildings in New York, but he kept it clean. He took a small amount of pride in the place after all. It was a good place, he liked it, so he made sure to keep after it. Making sure that everything is scrubbed down properly is also something to do when you desperately feel the need to do something. He usually just grab utensils from the containers under the countertop, and there are boxes with napkins. Sometimes though he makes sure that there is salt and pepper in the shakers, that there is ketchup, mustard and syrup to go on the table with the appropriate meals. 

Everything looks fine and if he only had the groceries he could serve a meal any time he felt like it. He probably has the only diner in the entire city that is open this whimsically, but it really does suit him. It’s simply a Jason thing. 

TBC

Please comment the Cricket is hungry...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Casey is thrilled when Walsh seems to have recovered a little more of his normal posture. Smiling a little more at her, looking less pale and tired. Beaumon on the other hand is growing very frustrated and a little snappish at everyone as some things apparently has not improved. Naturally sexual intercourse is not a good idea, but apparently Walsh still refuses any kind of intimate touch between them. According to what she told Casey, he pulled away if she as much as put her arm around him. Beaumont was not the kind to tell everyone all about her sex life. She was in so many ways a rather private person. It was just that they shared Walsh between them. He was Beaumont’s man, and Casey’s partner, he belonged to the both of them. 

In so many ways he was their common ground, and a way for them to understand each other better. She liked Beaumont, but they had grown up very differently and sometimes it showed. 

She tried not to let idiots get to her, but when one too many called her rich girl and suggested she knew nothing about life, Walsh had just shrugged and grinned at her. Stating that just because she was rich did not mean she had not struggled, it only meant it had been a completely different kind of struggle. That was one of the great things with Walsh, he truly understood such things. 

Beaumont too, she understood more than you might think. Perhaps that was why she got along so well with Walsh. The two of them were not the most likely couple in the world after all, even if they were not unlikely. It was just so very hard to see Beaumont needing any man. She was so strong and confident, she could handle anything. Expect apparently Walsh at the moment. 

Well, she understood how frustrating it had to be, Walsh would barely touch her. Not that they had ever been that physical with each others in front of others, but there had been touch. A quick hug after something very hard had happened. A hand on her shoulder, small things, but things that really let her know he was there for her. Now there was nothing. No stealing a bite out of her food, a drink out of her mug. Nothing. It was like he was afraid if he got closer than two feet he would pass it on. Given how hard and frustrating she found it she could only imagine how hard it must be for Beaumont. Sex might be a bad idea, but there was no reason they could not even hug each other. There was no reason why they could not sit and cuddle, except Walsh. 

She wasn’t sure if some of the other officers weren’t making it worse either, as some of them were avoiding him. The good ones tried to show that nothing had changed. Even Delahoy who might not be the most openly caring person in the world did it. He would slap his shoulder, grin, and put a mug off coffee on his desk as if nothing was wrong at all. 

Casey could almost have kissed him for it. She had no urge at all to kiss Delahoy, but still. The man simply walked into the room, dropped an apple on her desk, put a hand on Walsh’s shoulder and leaned forward to look at something on the computer screen as he put the coffee down. He got right up close and personal, and when he straightened again there was something of a smile on Walsh’s face. Not a big one, he had not smiled for real in so long now she was not even sure she’d recognize it. The corner of his mouth pulled up though, just a hint of a smile and she figured that meant there was light at the end of the tunnel.

She only hoped it was not an oncoming train. 

The train wreck was a week later, and it was spectacular, even in slow motion. It was not loud, not many people noticed at all, it was just a moment in the corner of the room, but she was there and she saw it. They had managed to get a perp wanted by another squad and was handing him over. The officer shook her hand, then paused, hand outstretched towards Walsh. She saw the hesitation, Walsh had his hand out, but the officer did not take it, instead he pulled it back, and even wiped it subconsciously on his shirt. 

It was in his eyes that she saw it, everything come crashing down. 

When the man was gone he simply turned around and walked out of the room. As if he did not even hear her behind him. He simply walked out and she could not really blame him. She followed though, becuase it was what a partner did. You followed your partner to make sure he was okay. 

Walsh never said a word about it, not to her and not to anyone else. She was the one who had to explain it to Beaumont when he would barely even speak to her. He did not really speak to any of them, and she knew Brown was getting both worried and fed up. Walsh was one of their best cops, but he really did not have his head in the game which was a problem. Having to wait for the result really was hard on them. No matter how hard she wanted to fix it for him she did not know what to do. It wasn’t like she could make time go any faster, and this was one of those things that took time. 

It was one of the cold hard facts of truth, sometimes the world was a shitty place and sometimes the worst things happened to the best people. 

Sometimes there was nothing you could do but wait and watch, and it never felt like enough. There really was nothing else though, so she simply stood beside him, and made sure she kept standing there regardless of whether he appeared to want her there or not. She was there for the three month checkpoint, and she was there three months later again. 

She was there when he got the ‘all clear’ and she made sure as hell she was not there when he told the news to Beaumont. Partners and all that, but some things she would let him handle by himself, becuase that’s what partners did. 

The End (But not quite, so keep reading....) 

 

 

Epilogue

“Hey,” Casey came into the restaurant and sat down on one of the stools there. 

“Hey,” Walsh simply poured her a cup of coffee. “Pancakes?” 

“Yeah sure,” she decided. “You gonna put anything disgusting on them?” 

“No,” he gave her that grin that allowed her to know he would. 

“Walsh, do you know my father has contacts just like about everywhere. He’s got about a ton of them in D.C.” 

“Yeah?” turning his back away from her he poured some batter on the griddle. Adding some blueberries and then skittles, and she should have known. 

“Anyway, you know how those drug dealers just kind of slipped away from us? Cause they had all those lawyers and everything?” 

“Yeah,” he stiffened a little at that, it was still six months fresh in his mind. Six months that had been hard on all three of them. Yeah, it had not been pretty and she never wanted to go through it ever again. It was over now, as much as it ever would, there were still people who hesitated to touch him. Cops from other precincts that seemed to think he was still contagious. They hesitated every time they shook hands, and every time it hurt him. She knew that. 

“Yeah, well my dad’s golf buddy told him that that particular gang is gone now.” 

“Gone?” that was not what he had expected to hear. It was enough for him to face her after he had slid her pancake upon a plate. 

“Yeah, don’t ask me what the acronym stands for, because I have no idea. But some department going by the name of IMF, caught them, busted them and put them away for life.” 

“Interesting…” it made him smile.   
“Yeah, apparently they do things like that, and have resources we don’t, so they were able to bust the entire drug ring.” 

“Yeah,” he couldn’t keep the grin of his face. IMF, go figure. Will always found out everything, no matter what, he always found out. He had found out about the possible infection, and he had not been happy. That had not been a fun phone call. Will blamed himself, which wasn’t really a surprise at all. Oh, he knew there was nothing he could have done to keep him safe from the risk itself, but for Jason not having told them. That according to Will was Will’s fault. It was because he wasn’t available enough or good enough, that was all Will’s fault. 

Yeah, he was always blaming himself for stuff, and while Jason had tried to tell him it was not his fault and he was a stupid ass. He gave up though, because he knew only too well there was no way he could win. He hated knowing what it did to his brothers. Especially Will, Willie just got pissed and yelled at him, but Will, Will was the stupid idiot who thought it was his job to take care of them. 

Apparently that meant weeks and months of sleepless nights, because Will would never use company time that way until he had something concrete. He’d work on it every night after the job was done. Ignore sleep and food until he had what he wanted. 

Yeah, that was Will, that something that you could not get away from. Once he had what he needed to make it an official job he would take it to his superiors and have something done about it. 

Now he probably had some illusion that he could catch up on lost sleep. He wouldn’t tell Jason what he had done either, because then his brother might thank him, and since it was his fault, he did not deserve to be thanked. 

Yeah, Will was an idiot, but a pretty damn great brother.

“Kinda weird though, isn’t it?” Casey frowned. “I mean, I’ve never heard about them before, the IMF, I mean, what do they do?” 

“Government special forces, or something like that,” he shrugged. “Kinda like the CIA, but more bad ass.” 

“Oh,” she pursed her lips. “Well, that kind of explains it then I guess. They probably have a lot more resources than we do.” 

“They do,” he confirmed. 

“Anyway, I just thought you’d like to know.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” and he would give some grief about it later. When his brother was an overprotective ass again, like he always was. For now though he was pretty grateful to have a brother like Will, and a partner like Casey…. 

End Epilogue

Thank you all for reading, Please comment, Jeremy Cricket is hungry....


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